


Cherry Wine

by moo_mo0



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Bars and Pubs, Bartender Akaashi Keiji, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This While Listening to Arctic Monkeys' Music, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kuroo Tetsurou Swears, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Good Friend, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, No Volleyball, Protect Bokuto At All Costs, Protective Akaashi Keiji, Self-Indulgent, if you look really closely, pacing what pacing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moo_mo0/pseuds/moo_mo0
Summary: Bartender Akaashi likes to remain indifferent to customers. It's a simple transaction, really: they order drinks, he makes them, they pay and then they leave. But when it comes to this particular customer, nothing is simple. He makes Keiji want to act out his emotions but he can't for the simple reason that Bokuto Koutarou has a girlfriend and seems to be quite happy in the relationship.So what is Keiji to think when Bokuto comes in, not looking as happy as he usually does and orders an angel shot?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Cherry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> tw/: this fic includes references to domestic violence and other forms of abuse- it also includes homophobic language, so please tread with caution!  
> 🖤

Saturday nights were always busy, and tonight was no different. 

The music playing from the mounted speakers was drowned out by hundreds of conversations held in different volumes. The crowd was young, made up of university students and the occasional people of business. The air was heavy and warm for the most part until the entrance door would swing open letting in the cool, fresh air from the outside.

Akaashi Keiji had been working at the bar for over eight months now, having started towards the end of his first year of college in desperate need of income to help pay the rent. It had been a rocky start, but Akaashi was nothing if not a quick learner and had picked up the recipes of different drinks rather quickly- he could make four drinks at once now. He got along well with most of his colleagues, but he had favourites - those he could work with efficiently while also enjoying his shift. 

Tonight he was working with Iwaizumi Hajime, one of his roommates and the person who got him the job, Kiyoko Shizumi, the quiet shift manager and Tanaka Ryunosuke, the obnoxious chef who took every chance he had to flirt with the pretty woman with glasses. 

He was four hours into his shift when he felt eyes on him. It wasn’t unusual for people to be looking at him, especially when he made cocktails - there was a certain finesse he had while shaking them - but he knew who these eyes belonged to. Akaashi looked up from beer he was pouring and saw him, catching the familiar gaze of gold. His lips quirked up into a soft smile, and he nodded in the other man’s direction. 

Bokuto was his name. He came in every Saturday and ordered the same thing. He was loud, boisterous - not usually Akaashi’s cup of tea, but Bokuto was an exception. He tipped well, knew when to engage in conversation and when to leave Akaashi alone if he was busy. And whenever he got his drinks, he’d shoot Akaashi this crooked smile and thank him like he’d just been given the best gift ever. His smile was contagious. _Bokuto_ was contagious, and he left the bartender breathless whenever he’d come around. 

It wasn’t just that, but Bokuto had saved him once - okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but that’s what it had felt like. 

Working in a bar, Akaashi was always prepared to deal with unwanted attention. Flirtations that went too far or insistent touches. They had bouncers ready to deal with these sort of customers, but that night the bouncer had been indisposed, and Akaashi had been working alone behind the bar, and this older man would not leave him alone. 

He’d began to get angry after Akaashi kept denying the invitation to ‘get outta here’ and had reached across the bar to grab at him. Bokuto had stepped in just in time, yanking the man by the back of his collar off of Akaashi. Bokuto had seen what had been happening and had called for the bouncer before hurriedly making his way to the bar. 

The security guard dragged the drunken fool outside, and Bokuto had turned to Akaashi with worried eyes, “You okay?” He had asked, and Akaashi found himself nodding, calming himself down by drying shot glasses. “I am now, thanks to you.” 

That had earned a grin. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”

“Well, Bokuto-san, what can I get you? On the house.” 

“I’d like a name if that’s okay?” 

It was Akaashi’s turn to smile, “Akaashi Keiji.” 

When Bokuto saw that Akaashi had noticed him, he gave a little wave, his eyes glinting in the low lights before a short woman took hold of his chin, forcing him to look at her and in turn forced Akaashi to return his attention back to work. 

Akaashi wasn’t a bold man, he never liked making the first move, but he had considered writing his number down on a napkin to give to Bokuto on multiple occasions. But Bokuto had a girlfriend, and Akaashi was not a homewrecker, either. 

“Seems your white knight’s back tonight,” Iwaizumi nodded in the direction of said man, pouring ice into a tall glass. Akaashi hummed, in response, wiping the counter with a cloth; hygiene was crucial to maintain in a bar after all. 

“I still think you should give him your number, it’d prolly make his night,” the raven-haired man drawled, eyes scanning the people at the bar to see if anyone needed a refill before he settled his gaze back onto his coworker, giving a knowing smirk, “Prolly make your night, too.” 

Akaashi tucked the rag through the loop of his belt, heaving a sigh. They’d been over this. “He’s in a relationship, Hajime.” 

“So? You can give someone your number without it being flirty, Keiji.” That was true, but Akaashi wanted it to be flirty - that was the problem. 

More patrons came in, and they were back to work, their conversation cut off; placing drinks down in front of them, or putting them on a tray for the waiting staff to take to those sitting at tables or in booths. It was getting later into the evening, and Tanaka was pushing out food from the window, tapping on the bell with a “Honey ribs are ready!” or “Curry’s up!” or, most of the time, “Kiyoko! You look beautiful as ever tonight.” If the two weren’t already together, Tanaka would have gotten fired for indecent workplace etiquette. 

Two hours passed in a flash and the bar had emptied somewhat. Or at least it had quieted down, the music from the speakers could be heard now; covers of old rock songs, no doubt Iwaizumi’s doing. 

Akaashi’s feet were beginning to ache, but he ignored it, pouring himself a glass of water, downing it quickly. Iwaizumi patted Akaashi on the shoulder, nodding to the emergency exit, “M’gonna go smoke. Be back in five minutes.” The _Don’t tell Tooru_ went unspoken as the shorter man, meandered away, shrugging on his coat to sneak a nicotine fix. 

Oikawa hated it when Iwaizumi smoked, going off about how it affected the taste of his come. “It tastes all bitter and just bleugh! I like it better when it’s sweet.” A fact that Akaashi really hadn’t wanted to know. Turns out Oikawa’s favourite food was more than just milk bread.

“Wow, Tooru, I love how that’s the thing bothering you not the fact that I could get lung cancer.”  
“Iwa-chan, you know what I mean!” 

Hajime had actually cut back on his smoking down to once or twice a week instead of once or twice a day. It was tough going, especially in the beginning of his quitting journey when he’d show up to work covered in nicotine patches. 

Akaashi was alone behind the bar now, but he didn’t mind. He walked up and down the length of the bar, asking people if they needed anything else, or how their night was going - the usual. He was just finishing up a line of tequila shots for a group down at the far end when a familiar, “Hey, hey, hey Akaashi,” sounded behind him.

He spun around and there was Bokuto, leaning against the bar, looking as handsome as usual. He was broader than Akaashi, taller too. But he had this ‘friendly giant’ vibe about him that made it impossible for him to come across remotely intimidating.

“Boktuo-san, good evening.” How he managed to keep his voice even, Akaashi couldn’t say. 

Bokuto’s lips quirked up unevenly into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, it hadn’t been for the past couple of weeks. He seemed more distracted lately, less himself. Akaashi was worried for his favourite customer, which is another reason Hajime kept pushing him to exchange numbers. “I’m sick and tired of hearing you worry about the guy, just ask him yourself, dammit.” 

Surely it was just Akaashi’s imagination. Besides, he knew from past conversations that Bokuto was also a student, he was probably just tired from studying. Right?

“Do you want your usual?” Akaashi came to stan in front of him, leaning forward with his hands splayed on the counter just below the bar. Bokuto wasn’t meeting his eyes, his gaze flicking back from where he had come from. His bottom lip was swollen, the skin cracked and a little bloody, with purple lipstick smeared across it. _His girlfriend is certainly eager,_ he thought, but he felt uneasy. 

Boktuo hadn’t answered him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Akaashi called out to him once, twice before reaching a tentative hand over the bar, his fingers brushing against Bokuto’s with a feather-like touch. Bokuto flinched, and Akaashi drew away in surprise. Gold met emerald, and Akaashi didn’t like what he saw. 

“Bokuto-san, are you alright?” Bokuto’s breath hitched on a sharp inhale. His stare was piercing as he searched Akaashi’s face for… Something. 

He nodded with a strained, “I’m fine, ‘Kaashi. I’ll take the usual.” Akaashi stood there for a brief moment, observing Bokuto in return, noting how the other avoided his gaze. 

This wasn’t fatigue. It was something else. 

“That would be a margarita and a beer, correct?” Akaashi turned to the computer, punching in the order. 

Silence, followed by a nervous shuffling of feet and then, “Actually, c-could I um- Could I change the beer for an angel shot?” 

Akaashi froze, his hand hovering over the display, blood running cold in his veins. He swallowed thickly before nodding, “How would you like to take it?”

The angel shot was not actually a drink order, but a code that most bars used. Code customers used when they needed to get out if a date wasn’t going well. When they didn’t feel safe- when they were in danger. Based on the severity of the situation, the angel shot could be ordered in one of three ways:

 _"Neat"_ or _"Straight Up:"_ which indicates to the bartender or server that the guest needs an escort to their car.

 _"On Ice"_ or _"With Ice:"_ this indicates that the guest needs them to call them a taxi or an Uber.

 _"With Lime"_ or _"With a Twist:"_ which indicates to the bartender or server that the guest needs them to call the police.

“Bokuto-san? How would you like to take it?” Akaashi asked again firmly, casting a look towards the bigger man who was looking around the room, his fingers drumming on the bar in an uneven rhythm. When he faced the bartender again, he looked conflicted, tense. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Akaashi found himself saying. “What sort of angel shot do you need?” 

They had posters regarding the drink order/code hanging up in the bathrooms, explaining in detail the differences. Maybe Bokuto didn’t know? How would Akaashi let him know? How could he help him if-

Bokuto’s shoulders slumped forward, his head pressed against his forearms. His voice was so quiet that if Akaashi hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed those four words, 

“With a lime, please.”

A chill ran down Keiji's spine but he pushed the nervous thoughts aside, pulling out this phone from his back pocket. "I'll have to look up the recipe, I'll be back." Just then Iwaizumi came off his smoke break, sliding up next to his coworker as Akaashi turned to head where Hajime had come from, bumping shoulders by accident. 

The two shared a look. They'd only known each other for a couple of months, but the two could reach each other with ease. Hajime knew something was wrong. 

"I'll hold down the fort."

Keiji didn’t bother with a response, ducking out of sight to call the police. 

It took long for the dispatcher to answer the call, too long. 

By the time Akaashi returned, the police on their way, Iwaizumi and Kiyoko were dealing with a new wave of customers and Bokuto was no longer alone. 

The Herculean man had his hands up in defence while a much smaller blonde woman was talking at him, poking him in the chest with a manicured nail with every word she said. The closer Akaashi got the clearer the conversation became.

“-ou think I wouldn’t notice you tryna chat up the bartender?” Jab. “What am I not good enough for you?” Jab.

“Haru it’s not like that!” Bokuto’s words fell on deaf ears as the woman hissed over him like an angry snake. 

“Did you even fucking order? Or were you just standing here trying to get fu-” 

“He did order, actually.” Keiji cut in smoothly, his arms folding across his chest. 

“Akaashi.” Relief flooded Bokuto’s face, but tension remained in his shoulders. 

Hazel eyes zeroed in on him, purple-stained lips curling up into a sneer. Keiji couldn’t believe that such a beautiful woman was capable of such an ugly expression - and even uglier words. “I needed to search up a recipe in the back.” He tried to keep his voice flat, face void of emotion but boy was it _hard_. 

“What’s so fucking complicated about a margarita?” Her laugh was shrill and disbelieving, cutting through the hum of other guests and the music. 

“Just wanted to make sure I made it correctly, miss.” Akaashi bit, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. 

“Sure you did,” suddenly the blonde’s face was in front of Akaashi’s, her torso leaning over the bar. He leaned back some, moving to the side to pick up a cocktail shaker and a glass. 

“Is everything alright over here?” A large palm clapped itself on Keiji’s shoulder as Iwaizumi appeared next to him. His presence was a welcome one. 

“No. This bartender can’t make a simple fucking drink,” the woman jeered, her nails dragging along the wood as her hands curled into fists. “And he keeps looking at my boyfriend like a- what are you, a fag?”

The insult came out of nowhere and Akaashi hated how much it still stung. His jaw clenched but before he could come back with a witty, _“Yes, I am. What of it?”_ the situation had already progressed. 

“Haru, enough!” Bokuto boomed, taking a hold of her and jerking her off the barstool where she had been kneeling on to get across the bar. She stumbled onto the floor and would have fallen on her ass if Bokuto hadn’t held onto her, steadying her. 

As soon as she was sure on her feet, she batted her boyfriend’s hand away, whirling on him, teeth bared in a snarl. “Oh so you’re defending him now?” Once again she jabbed into his chest- or she tried to. Bokuto’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, holding her at a distance. His thick eyebrows were pinched together and the usual warmth from his eyes were gone, replaced with a steely coldness as he regarded the woman. 

“Enough.” He repeated. She tried to pull away but his grip around her wrists tightened. 

“You need to apologise right now-” He began to say just as Haru let out a sharp, “You’re hurting me!” Immediately, Bokuto blanched, his eyes widening owlishly and he loosened his grip. His mouth fell open in an attempt to speak but before he could get any words out his face had been snapped to the side.

The sound of a palm hitting a cheek was crisp and hard. Everything seemed to still. 

Akaashi’s eyes grew wide, watching unmoving as Bokuto raised a shaky hand to his red cheek.

The bouncer came bustling through the small crowd that had formed, reaching out towards the duo. _Good, she’ll get dragged out and the police will take her and- wait_ , Keiji’s train of thought came to a screeching halt as the bald man grabbed Bokuto by the elbow, tugging him to the main doors. 

“Hold it!” It was Hajime’s voice. He scrambled from behind the bar, rushing after the bouncer and Bokuto. 

Haru’s smirk was shit-eating, massaging her wrists, watching as her boyfriend was thrown out. Akaashi had never been a violent man, but he had the sudden urge to deck her. Instead, he dropped the glass and shaker into the sink, moving to follow Iwaizumi outside. Behind him he could just make out Kiyoko demanding the other woman to pay and leave.

It was cold, the air hitting Akaashi like needles as he burst through the door. The curb was lined with cars, the overhead lamps glowing a soft orange and pedestrians walked along the sidewalk either going home or going out. A couple of people pushed past him to get inside the bar. 

The bouncer, Bokuto and Hajime were to the right, standing in front of an alleyway between the bar and a konbini. The bald man was scratching at his head as Hajime ripped him a new one, while Bokuto was crouched beside them, his back to the wall, head buried in his hands. 

Akaashi’s feet were moving on their own accord. Soon, he was kneeling in front of the other man whose body trembled. Gingerly, Akaashi placed a hand onto Bokuto’s knee, giving it a shake, “Bokuto-san?” The man sniffled, shaking his head, his fingers digging into his hair. 

The sleeves of his tee rolled up revealing dark patches of skin on the forearms. Bruises, Akaashi realised and he suddenly felt parched, his tongue heavy. He wondered if the bruises were only on his arms, or if they were anywhere else. The thought made his stomach drop. 

Akaashi reached for Bokuto’s hands and pulled them away from his face, forcing the other to look at him. “‘Kaashi..” Bokuto’s voice cracked and tears began to drip down his face.

“Bokuto-san, are you-”

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto whispered, his voice tight and Akaashi squeezed the other’s hands, bringing them against his sternum. “What’re you sorry about, Bokuto-san? You did nothing wrong.”

“N-no, I did. I m-made your night d-difficu-ult, Haru called you- called you _that_ and then I hurt Haru and-” a flash of red and blue illuminated his face as he hiccuped around his words. A sob ripped itself from his throat when he noticed the police cruiser pull up to the curb. “I’m gonna get l-locked up. I s-shouldn’t have said anything.” Akaashi’s heart ached. He released Bokuto’s hand, opting to cradle his face instead. 

Breathe “Bokuto-san…You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not at fault here.” Akaashi’s thumbs brushed at the tears, minding the injured cheek which felt warm under his hand. He was trying to sound reassuring, keeping his anger under lock and key for now.

“I’m not going to let you get locked up, Bokuto. I promise. We’ll explain everything we know, okay?” 

Watery gold eyes looked up at him, tears clumping his lashes together. “Akaashi I can’t-” 

“I said everything would be okay, remember?” Akaashi’s voice was firm, desperately trying to get across the point that Bokuto wasn’t alone in this. “I’d never lie to you, Bokuto-san.” 

A car door slammed somewhere behind them and Bokuto flinched. The scrape of leather on concrete came closer, but the bartender refused to move, keeping a gentle hold on Bokuto’s face. 

“We got a call about a possibly violent situation and or person in this establishment?” The police officer asked through a yawn, approaching the group with a slight limp. 

Akaashi pulled away and stood up, helping Bokuto to his feet while Hajime explained the situation briefly. When asked about who had called in, Akaashi stepped forward, explaining that Bokuto had used the code to inform him that he had been in danger. 

Just as Akaashi was describing the assault, the other bouncer pushed the door open, letting the blonde woman stumble outside, clutching her heels in one hand and her jacket in the other. 

The police officer lifted his gaze to the woman, then to Akaashi, then to Bokuto then back at Akaashi. He lifted a thin eyebrow, not looking impressed. “Are you certain that the slap wasn’t unwarranted, son?” 

Keiji felt the anger begin to bubble up once more. He tried not to let it show, but obviously, he wasn’t successful because Iwaizumi was giving his side a sharp pinch—a warning. 

“I- I might’ve held her a bit tighter than usual but-” Bokuto was saying when Haru noticed them. Her expression was unreadable as she strode over, seemingly not caring that her bare feet were touching the dirty sidewalk. The officer jotted something down on a piece of paper and turned away from the group, meeting her halfway to take her statement. 

“Imma head back inside,” Hajime huffed. “Text me if anything happens, yeah?” He didn’t wait for a response before disappearing back inside for his shift. The officer had given them the all clear to leave, but Keiji found himself unable - or unwilling- to do so. 

“You don’t hafta stay out here, yaknow,” Bokuto nudged Akaashi with his shoulder, offering a small smile. His arms were folded in front of his chest, his sleeves tugged back down to his wrists, the bruises hidden once again.

“Bokuto-san, does this happen often?” Akaashi asked before he could stop himself. Almost immediately, the smile slipped from Bokuto’s face, and for a split second, Akaashi felt guilty. But he needed to know, so he refused to back down. He just hoped that Bokuto was ready to answer the question. Ready to admit out loud about what was going on. 

The question lingered in the air for a couple of minutes, accompanied by silence only interrupted by the music flooding into the street whenever the bar door opened. It was almost peaceful if not for the situation. 

“It’s embarrassing.” Bokuto broke the silence first, shifting from one foot to the other. Akaashi didn’t answer, waiting for the other to continue. Another bout of silence followed before Bokuto spoke again, quieter this time. “It happens a lot, it didn’t used to. It used to be good… Then it just- wasn’t.” 

Keiji looked over at the taller man to find him staring at the ground, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

“I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t think anyone would believe me... It’s usually the other way ‘round, ya know,” he chuckled mirthlessly. 

“I believe you.” Akaashi reached out and gave Bokuto’s bicep a comforting pat. Bokuto turned to face the bartender, and he looked tired, relieved and scared. “Thank you, ‘Kaashi.” 

“Alright, imma need you two to come with me down to the station.” The officer was back, looking miffed that this was taking longer than expected. Haru was already in the back seat of the cruiser. 

Bokuto stiffened up beside Akaashi.

“I’m coming with him.” Keiji glared at the police officer, daring him to say no. The older man simply rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue impatiently. “Get in, then.” 

The ride over to the police station was awkward. The tension thick enough to be able to be cut with a blunt spoon. Haru and Bokuto were both in the back with Keiji sitting in the passenger seat. The officer would look into the rearview mirror every now and then as if to make sure the two behind him didn’t start anything. Akaashi found himself turning in his seat to check, too. 

Now, the trio stood in the lobby of the small police station, the officer readying some interrogation rooms. Haru spoke up, scoffing a, “Can’t believe you got the cops involved, Kou.” The desire to punch a woman had never been so strong, Akaashi found himself flexing his hands to distract himself.

Bokuto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You still need to apologise to Akaashi-”

“I don’t need to do shit for that bender!” Haru snapped, clutching her heels tightly in her fist. 

“Haru!” 

“Bokuto-san? Would you mind filling in these forms for me? Suzuki-san, please follow my colleague to the interview room,” a warm voice stopped the situation from escalating even further. A younger officer had approached them, with short dark hair and a clean-shaven face. He held out some paperwork towards Bokuto along with a pen, while a woman in uniform escorted Haru down the brightly lit hallway. 

The younger policeman gestured for Bokuto to sit at one of the many desks to fill in the documents before turning to Akaashi. “Can I get you anything?”

“That woman some jail time would be great,” Akaashi gritted out, slumping against the reception desk. The officer cackled good-naturedly.

“Innocent until proven guilty, I’m afraid. I meant something along the lines of water, or coffee?”

Akaashi accepted coffee from the vending machine. It was shit, but it would do. 

“Bokuto-san, do you have anyone else you’d like to call?” The policeman - Officer Sawamura as he later introduced himself - asked. Bokuto nodded, fishing out his phone from his pocket, scampering off nearby to call whoever his emergency contact was. Probably a family member. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Akaashi said adamantly, finishing off the coffee in a couple of gulps. 

Sawamura hummed, tapping at his thigh. “I know.” Akaashi’s head snapped to him so fast his neck cracked. “Then why-” 

“We need it for the records. It’s a long process, but that’s the policy.” Sawamura had the decency to look a bit guilty, offering a one-shoulder shrug. 

“How do you know?” Akaashi asked instead, watching the strong lines of Bokuto’s back as he paced up and down, holding the phone close to his ear. 

“Gut instinct. After a while, you just know. Besides,” Sawamura inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. “Bokuto-san’s case isn’t a new one. His name has been mentioned a lot these past couple of months. Someone keeps calling demanding a case be opened but whoever works the phones never seems to deem it serious enough to bother.” His voice grew tense, his annoyance hidden with practised ease. 

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying something he’d regret.

Soon after Bokuto’s phone called ended, he was shown to a different room, leaving Akaashi in the lobby. He shot a quick message to Iwaizumi and Kiyoko, explaining his sudden disappearance. He didn’t get any replies immediately, but when he did, they read the same. Telling him to keep them updated.

It only hit him then how odd it was, that Akaashi had left work in the middle of his shift to accompany someone who was still a stranger to him. Despite all the pleasantries, he didn’t know much about the other man and yet here he was.

“Where is he? Where’s Bokuto?” A deep voice roused Akaashi from his daze. He looked across the hall to see a tall, dishevelled looking man leaning across the reception desk. He continued to dump questions onto the poor receptionist who could barely get a word in edgewise. 

Akaashi pushed himself out of the chair, navigating past people and desks to reach the newcomer. “Are you Bokuto-san’s emergency contact?” 

The man turned towards him with an unreadable expression, “Yeah, and who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Akaashi Keiji I’m-”

Realisation dawned on his face.“The bartender that called the police thank fuck!” Suddenly said bartender was being enveloped into a tight hug, his feet barely scraping the floor when he was lifted upwards. “I owe you one, man.” The man grumbled, setting Akaashi back down. “Seriously, about fucking time. I’ve been trying to call this shit in for months.” 

That must be what Officer Swamura had been talking about. 

Akaashi nodded once, “Bokuto-san just got taken in for questioning.” The news made the other roll his eyes, a sharp huff leaving his mouth. He was annoyed, to put it lightly. “Fucking great… So what, we have to wait?” Akaashi nodded once more then gestured to the vending machine near the entrance.

“Coffee? I have to warn you, it’s not that good.” 

“Better than no coffee, I guess. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou by the way.” 

They talked briefly about the current situation. Apparently Bokuto and Haru had started dating around a year ago. “It wasn’t really dating, not at first. They went on one date and the next thing Bo knows his phone’s getting hit up twenty-four seven and he’s got a blonde twig stuck to him wherever he goes. I told him to cut her off, but Bo’s too fucking nice, ya know? Whenever he tried she start cryin’ and next thing I know Bokuto’s taking her out for ice-cream.” It only went downhill from there. Haru was possessive and tried to cut Bokuto off from most of his friend group and his family and would get all angry whenever he tried to make plans with other people. 

Kuroo began noticing the bruises and skittishness of his friend after around three months. “I should’ve put two and two together,” Kuroo was bouncing his leg, the caffeine doing nothing for his anxiet and guilt. 

“No use duelling on what could have been, Kuroo-san. We’re here now, and Bokuto-san will be fine.” Akaashi tried to comfort the black haired man, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

They decided switch to different topics. The more he spoke of her, the more vocal Kuroo grew about his dislike for Haru - _”- that corn-looking-ass bitch”_ \- and the situation they found themselves in, specifically how it hadn’t been handled sooner. Although Akaashi agreed with him, he suggested that maybe calling the people around them good-for-nothing-swines while Bokuto was still in for questioning wasn’t the best of ideas. 

Turns out, Kuroo was a medical student, while Bokuto was studying early childhood education. “Bokuto-san wants to be a preschool teacher?” The thought made him smile, but it was unexpected. He was expecting something more along the lines of Bokuto being a business major, or something to do with sports.

“Oh yeah, the dude loves kids. Is great with em, too. Me? I’m ready to drop kick one as soon as they look at me funny.” Akaashi hoped that Kuroo never had to deal with an ill child patient when he became a doctor. 

Hours later, Bokuto walked back into the quiet lobby to find both Akaashi and Kuroo huddled up in chairs napping. A gentle shake of the shoulder was enough to wake Akaashi while Kuroo needed to be practically heaved onto the floor to rouse him. 

As soon as Kuroo came to his senses, he hovered around the other man nervously, his pressing over his body uncertainly. “Kou- What’s the verdict?” He asked after fussing over his friend. Akaashi had lingered back until that point, coming up to Bokuto’s other side as the three of them were walked out by another officer.

Bokuto didn’t speak until they were outside, free from prying ears and eyes. “Haru’s getting charged,” he said quietly, he didn’t sound happy about it at all. Akaashi frowned up at him, but either the other didn’t notice or he was purposely avoiding his eyes. 

Kuroo nodded, digging into his jacket pocket to pull out his car keys. “Good… Good, we should get home. Akaashi, you wanna ride home?” Kuroo obviously wanted to say more, a lot more. But that would probably be best suited for another day, even if it was to let the whole event sink in. 

Keiji accepted Kuroo’s offer. The bar would have closed by now, and after such a busy day he was in need of some sleep. The journey was short and quiet and when Kuroo pulled up in front of some old apartment complexes, Akaashi was eager to get out. With a quick thank you, he wished the two of them goodnight. 

He made it up to the front entrance before someone called out to him. 

Akaashi turned around to see Bokuto behind him, fidgeting anxiously. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“I just wanted to say thanks... Thank you, for everything,” he bowed his head, missing the look of utter bewilderment on Akaashi’s face. 

“I didn’t do much, Boku-”

“No you did! You did a lot for me today, Akaashi.” Bokuto straightened back up. “I owe you at least some food or- or something!” Akaashi pondered for a moment, then slowly he nodded with a soft, “Alright. Goodnight, Bokuto-san.” The grin that he got in return was enough to give him palpatations.

The next time Bokuto came into the bar, Akaashi had no problem writing his phone number on the napkin. “So you can text me when you want to get food,” he had said simply, ignoring the stars practically twinkling in Bokuto’s eyes. It was nice, seeing his favourite customer happy again. It was even nicer when the two became friends. And even better than that when they became so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it! lemme know what you think and don't hesitate on leaving comments/constructive criticism/illegible keyboard smashes :)  
> if you want to contact me, or just have a chat, you can reach me at my [twitter](https://twitter.com/moomo014)!


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